


Finish On The Sheets

by LittleSixx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Hermione Granger, Cheating, Extramarital Affairs, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Mutual Masturbation, POV Hermione Granger, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Hogwarts, Ron Weasley Bashing, Widowed Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:40:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29532102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleSixx/pseuds/LittleSixx
Summary: It's not cheating if they never touch.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 122





	Finish On The Sheets

**Author's Note:**

> In the past couple years I've taken part in the HP Kinkfest. Haven't heard anything about it this year, and my last entry was a fun look-don't-touch Harry/Astoria story. Figure once a year I can do some PWP practice so this happened. Please forgive any errors as the edit was really quick, and happy reading!

By the time Hermione realized she was in love with Draco Malfoy, she was in too deep to pull herself out.

It began with a joke so innocuous that she couldn’t even remember it. He made a joke, Hermione laughed, and everything spiraled outward from there. They bumped shoulders on a lift at the Ministry. Fingertips brushed when Hermione handed Draco a stack of parchment. Their hands touched at a party. There was an almost-kiss on one New Year’s Eve.

Ron never noticed.

Hermione hadn’t paid much mind to Draco in the years after the war. She had a career, a family, and no reason to look at the rubbish they said in the papers. Hermione was promoted to Head of the Office of International Magical Cooperation right about the time Draco’s wife died. As if Fate was pushing them together, Hermione needed a contact in the Shadows and Draco needed a distraction.

Then Draco _became_ the distraction.

Hermione only asked certain questions and Draco never gave more of an answer than was required. At least, it began that way. A couple years in, those late-night work sessions at Malfoy Manor became more than work. Draco opened up about the death of his wife; how Scorpius seemed to be handling it, and even how Draco wasn’t.

“He has his friends to help him through, especially the middle Potter child. To be honest, Hermione, I am surprised Scorp has not tried to snog him. Me, though, I just ...” Draco leaned back in his chair and sighed. “I feel so empty without her. Astoria was the heart of our family and I was nothing more than the limbs. I simply do things without much feel for whether they are the _right_ things.”

Hermione said, “You seem to be doing okay.”

“It is easier when I am left to deal with it on my own. Now that Scorpius has returned to Hogwarts, it is holidays I worry about. What will I do over Christmas?”

“You could ask Harry if Albus can stay through the holiday. He takes any excuse he can to avoid family gatherings, and they are in fifth year after all. They are old enough.”

“Yes,” Draco agreed, “they are old enough to know how to make a sound barrier so I can’t hear them having sex in one of the bedrooms.”

Hermione shot him a reproachful look.

“You just said they haven’t kissed.”

Draco twirled a quill between his fingers and admitted, “I am not certain Scorpius would tell me if they had.”

**.oOo.**

When Hermione was promoted years earlier, she had sex with Ron several times a week. As the months dragged on, sex with Ron leveled out to a couple times each week. The more time he spent away, the more time Hermione spent with Draco.

By the time Christmas ended and then February turned to March, sex was sporadic at best. As head coach for the Quafflepunchers, Ron was away most days of the season. Hermione would lay in their bed at night and let her hand linger underneath her knickers. Her fantasies varied, mostly from their more adventurous nights before Rose and Hugo were born. Then one night her mind wandered off ...

Grey eyes.

Long blond hair.

A slow, careful voice whispering the naughtiest things in her ear.

Hermione came harder than she had in months. _Years_ , even. Her breathing was slow and heavy as she realized what she had done. Hermione tossed her knickers in the direction of the rubbish bin. Was it cheating to fantasize about someone else? She certainly couldn’t allow it to happen again, not with a man she saw far more often than she saw her husband.

But it happened again.

It happened again and again until Ron disappeared from the fantasies entirely. When he reappeared it was to watch from the corner of the room as Draco was on top of her. Hermione wanted Ron to watch how Draco Malfoy’s touch made her beg for more, wanted desperately for Ron to see what he was missing.

It would never happen. Draco was a friend from work, one she saw at the occasional party. He was tall and gorgeous, the sort of person who could have anyone he wanted. There was no reason for him to be interested in Hermione over anyone else, and a dozen reasons why he shouldn’t be. She supposed Draco was still mending his heart, anyhow.

**.oOo.**

One night at the beginning of May, Hermione watched as Draco read the latest brief in his office. He had spun his hair into a bun and stuck a pin through it, but ran his fingers through it so many times the bun had fallen toward the nape of his neck. He was so lost, not just in the brief but in life. Hermione saw that as a reflection of herself, with age and increasing distance from her family. She had grown so used to a certain life, but when she finally looked up again it had faded to nothing between her fingers.

“Hypothetically,” asked Hermione, “if you were married to someone you love, what would it mean if you began to fantasize about someone else?”

Draco looked up from his parchment and frowned; a tiny eleven appeared between his eyebrows.

“Sorry?”

“I am only wondering whether it is infidelity if I—” Hermione cursed herself internally. “—If someone fantasizes about a man who is not their husband.”

“It sounds like this hypothetical person needs to have more sex,” Draco replied with a shrug.

“What if they are _only_ fantasizing about this new person?”

“Then perhaps this person does not love her husband as much as she thinks she does.”

“But she wants to!” Hermione dropped the pretense and admitted, “I want to, but he rarely gives me the opportunity.”

Draco frowned and bit down on his lip, almost as if he was trying to find a graceful exit from the conversation. He pulled off his glasses and took his sweet time folding them.

“Weasley isn’t cheating on you, he would never do that.”

“No,” Hermione agreed, “he wouldn’t.”

“I would give anything for another hour with Astoria. I told her I loved her every day and it still does not feel like enough. Scorpius looks like me, but I see so much of Astoria in him. Thank Merlin, because she was incredible. I want to show him that his kindness and his humour, that comes from her. She had a good heart and made me want to be better. If Weasley is doing any less than that, he doesn’t deserve you.”

“So I shouldn’t feel awful about wanting someone else?”

“I suppose that depends on whom you’re fantasizing about.”

“You.”

Draco raised his eyebrows and let out a startled, “Oh.”

“I know.” Hermione winced. “I know and you just said all those wonderful things about your wife. You have done nothing to lead me on or give me reason to think of you like this—”

“For someone who prides herself on logic, you are certainly an idiot when it comes to love.”

“Excuse me?” snapped Hermione. “I’ll have you know—”

“Hermione, you are the most powerful person I have ever met and I am arse over tits in love with you.”

What?”

The corners of Draco’s eyes crinkled when he laughed.

“Did you truly believe I have kept doing all this pro bono work for the Ministry because I give a damn about international magical cooperation?”

Hermione nodded.

Draco chided, “It is as if you hardly know me at all.”

Looking back on it, he had put in a lot of unnecessary effort. All those late nights ... After everything the Ministry had put him through, Hermione wondered why he bothered to work so hard. She never considered that perhaps the Ministry wasn’t the draw.

Hermione asked, “What can we do about it?”

“I won’t break up a marriage, Hermione. I am not that sort of man.”

“I have to figure out what to do, but there is one thing I know I want.”

“What’s that?”

“I want to keep dreaming about you.”

A long silence stretched out between them. Hermione wanted this, wanted to be with a man who held her like he appreciated every moment. Someone who didn’t take her presence in his life for granted. Hermione had finally allowed herself to want who she wanted. It was up to Draco where they went from here. He pulled the pin out of his hair and tossed it onto the desk.

“I have an idea.”

“Yes?”

Draco leaned forward and asked, “What if I watch?”

**.oOo.**

Seven o’clock and Hermione had no idea what to wear. She supposed the logical thing was to build from the inside-out. What was Draco looking for? What did he want to see?

Hermione settled on a bra and knickers set covered in delicate black lace. She bought them hoping Ron would appreciate it. He hadn’t, of course, to him it looked like everything else she wore in bed. But when she put them on with Draco in mind, she felt confident he would see the effort. Hermione grabbed each of her tits from the side and pulled them up a bit in the cups, not sure it would make a difference. Pushing forty meant everything about her body was larger and softer. Not in a significant way to anyone else, but enough for Hermione to notice.

Would Draco notice?

She pushed those thoughts away and walked into her closet. Looking around, what made her feel sexy? Definitely the high-waisted trousers, but a blouse? Her eyes landed on the lilac one with the bow at the neck. she thought about what Draco would see in her style. He’d seen her in enough places to know what to expect, but was this _too_ proper for what they were about to do? Hermione buttoned up her blouse then fastened her trousers. She tied the long strips of fabric into a bow at the base of her throat and closed her eyes, imagining Draco untying it.

Would he, or was that against the rules?

It was so complicated and Draco hadn’t even arrived. She poured herself a glass of water in the kitchen and sipped it slowly, trying to organize her thoughts. Hermione was calm, there was no reason to be nervous. They would both be vulnerable, Draco in his restraint and Hermione in every other way.

_Pop!_

The unmistakable crack of Apparition filtered through the front door. Hermione placed the glass on the counter and rushed to the bathroom. She touched up her lipstick, looked at herself in the mirror, and said,

“You deserve this.”

Hermione ran to the front door and smiled at Draco when she opened it. Several emotions flitted across his face, but Hermione was pleased that regret was not among them. She opened the door further and stepped aside.

“Come in.”

Hermione surveyed Draco from tip to toe. He’d pulled his hair back into a twist and wore a slim-fitted suit, navy with a white button-down underneath. Simple, but Hermione’s heart nearly leapt out of her chest it beat so fast. As much as she had wanted this before, seeing Draco walk in looking like he’d stepped off the cover _Wizards Quarterly_ made her want it more.

“You look rather smart.”

“Thank you,” Draco replied with a smile. He shut the door behind him.

The lock fell into place with a loud click, and everything became much more real. Hermione nodded toward the kitchen and asked,

“Do you want something to eat?”

“No, I think it’s best if we don’t pretend this is anything other than what it is.”

Hermione offered, “A drink, then?”

“No, I want to be sober for this.” Draco placed his hand on the small of Hermione’s back and said, “I intend to remember every detail.”

Hermione leaned the slightest bit into his touch. She was more comfortable in that moment than she had been in ages. As wrong as it was, being with Draco Malfoy felt safe. Hermione took his hand and led him into the bedroom. He spent several seconds taking it in, noting the bed against the far wall. Draco frowned.

“Not what I was expecting.”

Oh. He had given it thought, then?

“How do you mean?”

“It’s so ... sparse.”

“Sparse?”

“It looks like something out of a magazine. Basic, only the essentials, I would scarcely believe someone lives here.”

Glancing around the room, she saw everything as it should be. But it was, she supposed, impersonal.

“Now that the kids are gone to Hogwarts, we are hardly ever home. My office is more lived-in.”

Draco unbuttoned his jacket and shrugged it off. Good God, he was tall and thin; he tossed the jacket onto the bed. He asked,

“How do you want to do this?”

Hermione blinked up at him.

“I don’t understand.”

“I am only here to watch, so where do you want me?”

Hermione took his hand in hers and unfastened one of his cufflinks. She felt Draco’s gaze on her and her cheeks turned pink. Hermione ran the pad of her thumb across Draco’s open palm, his hands were so soft yet they could do terrible things. She wondered how many unforgivable spells had been cast by these hands. There was power to be found in this, in getting Draco Malfoy to admit he could be spiteful and chose not to. She moved to his other cuff and said,

“I think this will be better if you are giving the instructions.”

“Is that so?” Draco took the cufflinks from Hermione and placed them in the pocket of his trousers. He held out his left arm and nodded to his wrist. “Fold it up.”

Hermione was careful to fold it two finger-widths at a time. Each turn revealed more of the Dark Mark; the ink had faded with time but remained prominent against his pale skin. Hermione swallowed thickly, wondering if his past shamed him as deeply as it had hurt her. When she nestled the sleeve in the crook of his elbow, Draco asked,

“Do you still want to do this?”

As if it had been some sort of test. Looking up into those concerned grey eyes, Hermione realized it wasn’t that at all; it was a reminder. A reminder of the people they once were.

“The only thing better than fantasizing about you, Draco Malfoy, will be you watching me while I do it.”

One corner of Draco’s mouth quirked up as he tried to conceal a smile. He held out his right arm and said,

“Suppose you’d better do this one, then.”

two finger-widths at a time. Hermione glanced up to see Draco watching her with intense focus. God, he was so pretty it hurt. Fatherhood had done him well, made him softer around the edges. She pushed Draco’s sleeve into the crook of his elbow and took a half-step back. She wondered,

“Is this a bad idea?”

“Yes,” Draco answered without hesitation. “This is a truly terrible idea, but it’s also the only way we can have what we want without ...”

“Without having it,” Hermione finished.

“Exactly.” Draco slowly surveyed Hermione, as if he only just realized he was in charge of their time together. His eyes lingered on the bow at the base of her throat. “No matter how desperately I want it.” He took one end of the bow and twirled it between two fingers. He pulled and the bow unraveled.

Hermione glanced at his lips as Draco separated the strips of fabric. She placed one hand on his hip and said,

“I want you to kiss me.”

Draco hummed his approval, flattered by Hermione’s desire.

“I want to kiss you, but I can’t.”

“I just ... I want to feel loved again. I want to be wanted again, so tell me what you want me to do, Draco. Tell me what to do.”

Hermione, still fully clothed, felt strangely vulnerable. She had laid it all out for him to see. He wanted her not as a diplomat or a war hero, he only wanted her as Hermoine. That was exactly what she wanted to give. Draco closed the bedroom door and leaned against it with a cocky grin.

“Undress for me.”

“Would you like me to make a show of it?”

“I’d very much appreciate it if you would.”

“Okay, right,” Hermione glanced down and said, “it’s only that I’ve only done this with one person. I haven’t needed to worry about how I look in so long.”

Draco frowned, confused.

“I don’t look like I did ten years ago, is all I’m saying.”

“You’re nervous.”

“Yes.”

“You have great tits, a bum, and all the vital bits. Take a breath, Hermione, I promise you will enjoy this.”

She wasn’t concerned about enjoying it herself, that much was guaranteed. She was aware of every inch of space between the two of them, teasing her, taunting her with the promise of what she could have.

“Will you undress me?”

“We agreed, no touching.”

“Don’t touch me, just my clothes. Please,” Hermione begged, “be close to me. I want you close to me.”

Draco placed his hands on her hips and said, “Only because you asked nicely.”

Hermione lifted her chin so he could access the top button of her blouse. She felt his long fingers brush against her throat as he deftly undid one button, then two, and a third. Draco smiled to himself as he unfastened the fourth button, but said nothing.

“What are you thinking?”

Draco went to work on the fifth button and revealed, “I was thinking this is the best present I have ever opened. You have ruined Christmas.” He chuckled darkly and ran his fingertips along the curve of Hermione’s waist. He pushed her blouse open as far as he could and said, “How cruel of you not to let me play with my toys.”

“Oh, I’m cruel?” snapped Hermione.

“Incredibly so,” Draco shot back. “I am free and available to you, all of me. You have made me an offer that I am too weak to turn down, standing here, watching, look don’t touch. I will take anything you give me, and here you stand, reminding me of what cannot be mine.”

“Tell me what you would do if you could touch me.”

Draco closed his eyes and said, “I would pull your blouse apart and throw you onto the bed. Touch every part of you I could get my hands on. Take your clothes off as quickly as I could, then let you undress me. I’d fuck you gently, slowly, so I can savor how it feels to be inside you, in your bed where you have spent all those nights fantasizing about me. I want to feel your legs around me, chest to chest, skin to skin.” He opened his eyes. “I would finish on the sheets so even when you wash them, you would know Weasley was sleeping in the very proof he does not know a good thing when he has it.”

Hermione pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Draco’s hand.

“I can see it.”

“Well I want to see you, so let’s start with jewelry first.”

Hermione nodded and unfastened her earrings. She placed them on the bedside table before unhooking her watch and placing it beside them. Hermione made to take off her wedding ring but Draco said,

“Leave it on.”

She shot him a questioning look, but obliged.

“I want to remember our boundaries.” He nodded to the ring and said, “That is non-negotiable.”

Hermione huffed, “What next?”

“Socks.”

Hermione toed off the left first, then the right, and kicked them off to the side. She turned back to Draco and awaited further instruction. He crossed his arms and smirked, but said nothing. After several frustrating seconds, Hermione placed her hands on her hips and asked,

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Because I have never seen you nervous before.”

“I never had reason to strip all my clothes off at the Ministry.”

“Pity.”

“You, Draco Malfoy, are a twit.”

“And you are _terrified_ right now,” he teased. “What do you believe is the worst-case scenario here?”

“Truthfully?”

“Please.”

“I only know what I like to feel and what Ron likes to see. I don’t know whether you will enjoy either of those things, so I am afraid it will be ... bad ... for you. And embarrassing for me.”

Draco walked over and pressed the pads of his fingers against Hermione’s cheek.

“I loved Astoria so much, I never thought I would find something comparable to what we had. Then you came to me with work at the perfect time, so I could distract myself from the pain of losing her. Now I have you in my life as a trusted friend.” Draco pulled Hermione’s blouse out of her trousers. “My feelings for you are far deeper than friendship. I don’t give a fuck what Ron Weasley likes because he has not been appreciating what you have to offer. I am standing here, Hermione, and I will enjoy whatever you give me.”

“Huh.” She pulled the bobble from her hair and rolled it onto her wrist. She fluffed her hair out and admitted, “I thought this was about me trying to impress you.”

“What you are about to do for me will definitely leave an impression.”

She laughed and rolled her shoulders, more at ease. If it wasn’t about impressing Draco, then it was about making herself feel good. Hermione figured she could do that well enough. Draco’s gaze fell to the softness of Hermione’s stomach as she unfastened each of the final buttons to reveal more skin. Then she tossed the blouse at Draco’s feet.

“Suppose I won’t be needing that.”

He smiled and his eyes lingered appreciatively on her chest. Draco licked his lips and said,

“I still believe you are overdressed for the occasion.”

“Am I?” Hermione unbuttoned and unzipped her trousers, then let them fall to the ground. She stepped out and kicked them in the direction of her socks. “And now?”

Hermione followed Draco’s gaze as it traced the outline of her hips. He tried to keep a straight face, but one corner of his mouth ticked up just a bit as his eyes lingered on her knickers.

“I like them.”

“Shall I keep them on, then?” asked Hermione. “Or would you prefer they join my trousers?”

Draco swallowed thickly and replied, “It seems rather heartless to deprive your trousers of their company.”

Before she could bring herself to undress completely, Hermione asked,

“Have you ever done this before?”

“Watched a married woman strip in front of me? No, can’t say I have.”

“If I wasn’t married ...”

“I would already have you undressed. As it stands, you _are_ married.”

“To little more than a ghost,” Hermione said as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra. She let it slide down her arms then tossed it toward the ever-growing pile of clothes.

Hermione turned her attention to Draco, who was looking at her the way she always wished Ron had when he saw her like this. Draco groaned and let his head fall back to rest against the bedroom door.

“This is going to be much more difficult than I anticipated.”

“Watching me?”

“Keeping my hands off of you.”

Hermione licked her lips and admitted, “I wish you didn’t need to.”

He scanned Hermione from tip to toe, eyes lingering on her tits. Hermione felt herself blush under his scrutiny.

“If this is all you can give, Hermione, I am happy to take it.”

She tucked her thumbs inside her knickers and pushed them down to her knees. She stepped out, right leg first then the left, and stood up to her full height. Hermione felt a confidence she hadn’t known in so long, one that came from her core, as she made her way over to Draco. His jaw was open and slowly sinking toward the floor. Hermione balled up her knickers and stuffed them into Draco’s pocket. She let her hand linger and Draco stopped breathing. Just as he leaned into her touch, Hermione pulled her hand away.

“You’ll appreciate them more than he will.”

Hermione turned and walked toward the bed, swaying her hips. She was surprised by how safe this felt, how Draco’s restraint wavered just enough to be playful. Neither of them could afford a mistake. Hermione sat on her side of the bed and shifted so her back was against the pillows.

This was familiar. Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears and leaned back. She closed her eyes and smiled softly as she nestled into a familiar routine. She trailed her fingers over her nipples then slowly down her sides. _Breathe_. Hermione took a deep breath in and opened her legs as she exhaled.

A sharp intake of breath alerted her to Draco’s presence. She opened her eyes to see Draco cup himself overtop his trousers. She smiled and asked,

“Good?”

Draco nodded and confirmed, “Brilliant.”

“What would you like me to do now?”

“What do you normally do now?”

Hermione gently pressed her fingertips against her clit then moved her hand to tease herself further down.

“I start slow.”

Draco took a step toward the bed and asked, “Is this when you think about me?”

“I am always thinking of you when I do this.”

Draco’s cheeks turned bright pink as he asked, “Which part of me do you think of first?”

Hermione rubbed her clit in slow circles.

“Your eyes. On those nights when our sessions go past midnight, you always look like you are thinking of something salacious. I pretend it’s me.”

“It is you,” Draco admitted, “just like this. Spread out in front of me exactly like this.”

Hermione pressed harder when he asked,

“What next?”

“It depends. I have several things I want you to do to me.”

“Your favourite, then?”

“Hmm.” Hermione hummed and closed her eyes. “My favourite fantasy is when you throw me on the bed. You’re on top of me, you kiss me hard and I kiss you back. I have one hand in your hair and pull just a little bit. You like it.”

“I would like that.” Draco’s voice had a bit more authority to it when he asked, “Do you prefer my hair long like this?”

Hermione nodded and tilted her head back as she inserted two fingers. Draco muttered his approval.

“I think it makes you look regal. I like when you pull it back and wear your glasses.” She moved her fingers in and out, slowly.

“You truly like that?” Draco sounded skeptical. “I feel it makes me look like a professor.”

Hermione’s entire body warmed at the thought. She parted her legs a bit more and used her left hand to continue applying pressure as she separated the two fingers inside of her.

“I love when you look—” Her breath hitched as a warm, familiar feeling began to pool between her hips. Hermione pulled her fingers out and held them up, opening her eyes to see them shine in the lamplight. She separated her fingers and watched a small line of liquid form between them. “I’m wet just because you’re looking at me.”

“I wish I could do more.”

Hermione’s breaths were shorter and shallow.

“I like the idea of you and me, professors together.” She laughed and asked, “Would you fuck me in the Restricted Section?”

Draco had the nerve to wink and say, “The Muggle Studies section had that long, cushioned bench.”

“The Restricted Section has chains.”

“Ooh,” Draco raised an eyebrow, “kinky. I’ll keep that for a fantasy of my own.”

“Well you know what they say.” Hermione said in one short huff of breath, “ _Sharingiscaring.”_

“I would never share you, and I believe Ron Weasley would say the same.”

Hermione’s high came crashing down around her. She closed her eyes, huffed, then rolled over onto her stomach. She smushed her face into a pillow and asked,

“Why the _hell_ did you bring him into this?”

Hermione heard Draco approach the foot of the bed. He said,

“You keep asking what I want, and I want you to say I am better at this than he is.” Draco took a deep breath. “I want you to tell me that you can’t help but stuff your hand down your knickers when you think about me.”

Hermione admitted, “I try to think about him, but even when I start there my mind always comes back to you.”

“Has he ever gotten you off without touching you?”

Hermione shook her head. Draco used the knuckle of his first finger to trace a line from her elbow up to the arc of her shoulder.

“Allow me to show you how it’s done.”

Hermione rolled onto her back and glared up at the ceiling. She insisted,

“I don’t feel bad about this.”

“Good.”

“I am not doing anything wrong.” She paused to lock eyes with Draco. “ _We_ are doing nothing wrong.”

“You may not be cheating on him with your body, Hermione, but you have to ask yourself whether part of your heart is with someone else.”

“Do you want it?” she asked. “I might give it to you.”

Draco stood at the side of the bed and said, “That is not my decision. It’s yours.”

“Right now, I can’t think of anyone but you. My head is you, my heart is you, even my knickers were _drenched_ because of you. I don’t know if it’s love, but I can’t let it go. So, I am going to get myself off and I want you to tell me what you think while I do it.”

“Okay.”

Hermione grabbed her breasts and arched her back. She curled her toes into the sheets then settled onto the mattress. She parted her thighs and picked up where she had left off.

“I have never seen you look this powerful.”

Hermione closed her eyes and wondered, “Why do you say that?”

Draco whispered, “You are completely bare in front of me. You have nothing to hide behind, yet you still have the confidence you would if you were fully-clothed in front of any member of our world’s diplomatic corps. It is a privilege to watch you like this.”

“What would you give to do this again?”

“I would empty my Gringotts vault to be on top of you right now.”

Hermione felt herself blush down her neck, warmth creeping onto her chest. She slid two fingers inside herself and met no resistance. She pulled out then pushed them in again, sliding slowly down the pillows until her neck was craned at an awkward angle. Hermione rolled her eyes and used her hands to push herself back up.

Draco asked, “How do you normally do this?”

“It depends.”

“What gets you off quickly?”

Hermione’s mouth went dry. There was so much, so many things she had thought about on those late nights. Draco’s hands, his mouth, his bum ... All of it. Everything at once. He snapped,

“Answer me, golden girl.”

“A lot.” She preened at the pet name. Hermione applied pressure to her clit and moaned, “I want to know if you’ve ever thought about me while you get off.”

“So many times.” Draco admitted, “My thoughts are a bit more specific than yours seem to be.”

Hermione closed her eyes and began fucking herself with the same two fingers.

“Tell me what you dream of so I can see it.”

“You are so powerful, Hermione, and I get off on having power over you. Knowing you trust me enough to give yourself over to me, to make yourself vulnerable.”

She chuckled.

“This isn’t vulnerable enough for you?”

“No.”

In and out, slowly.

“Tell me how you would make me vulnerable.”

“How much do you want to know?”

“All of it.” Hermione quickened her pace. “Tell me all of it.”

Draco walked around the bed and laid down at Hermione’s side. The mattress dipped and Hermione let her legs fall completely open so he could see what he was doing to her. Having him there where Ron slept felt like the most delicious betrayal.

Was it wrong?

Yes.

Yes, it was.

Would she stop?

No.

Draco’s breath was warm against the shell of her ear when he finally spoke again.

“I would watch you undress. You know how I like it, now; slow at first then quick at the end. You would stand in front of me for as long as I want to look at you. Then I would take off my belt and use it to tie your hands behind your back.”

Hermione closed her eyes to picture it. Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of being completely at his mercy.

“I tell you to get on your knees and you say no. I walk behind you and slap your bum until it’s bright red. You would wince at every sound but refuse to break. I tell you again and you listen, so I take my time looking at you. So professional, polished, goddamn powerful.”

Hermione hummed and increased the pressure on her clit, slow circles that became faster and faster as Draco outlined his fantasy.

“I would pull out my dick and step back because you know what I want.” Draco paused before revealing, “I want you to beg for it. You refuse and I pull your head back by your hair. I kiss you hard, open-mouthed, a long snog that leaves you breathless. When I pull back, you look up at me for more.” Draco tugged lightly on one of Hermione’s curls. “I fuck your mouth until your eyes water because you can’t breathe. There is a ring of spittle around your mouth but still a defiance in your eyes because you refuse to beg.”

“Sounds ...” Hermione’s breath hitched in her throat. “Sounds like me.”

“I know you well enough by now.”

Hermione moaned and grabbed her breasts, arching her back as warmth continued to build in her core. She would come too quickly with the heat of Draco’s body at her side. She turned to face him and said,

“Take your hair down for me?”

Draco smiled.

“Say please.”

Hermione grumbled, “ _Please_ take your hair down for me.”

Satisfied, Draco pulled several pins out of his hair and ran his fingers through it. Hermione used one hand to smooth out the sides.

“God, you’re so beautiful.”

“I can honestly say, having you in front of me like this is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen, Hermione. Truly, this is a privilege I won’t forget.”

“Tell me what happens next,” she insisted. “In your dreams, how do you get me to beg?”

“I walk you over to the bed, _my_ bed, and lay you out like this. I put my knees on either side of your hips and kiss you everywhere I can, touch your breasts, bite down and suck a mark into your chest because I want to claim you. I want everyone to know that in these moments you belong to me.”

Hermione traced around her entrance with a single finger, then inserted three and spread them wide. She pulled her fingers out slowly, then pushed them back in just as slow, listening to Draco’s deep breaths beside her.

“I would go down on you, my hands keeping your thighs apart. Right when you are about to come, I pull back. You sit up, even more defiant, frustrated. Then I lay back on the bed next to you, just like this, and wank. You stare at me, at my cock, wishing it was inside you. This goes on for several minutes, and your defiance does not fade. In fact, you’re angry. Now you want to hold out.”

Hermione licked her lips and fucked herself faster.

“You won’t let me.”

“No. You watch as I take off my shirt. You watch me pull off my trousers, my pants, and you hope that I am weak. You want me to cave, but I flip you onto your front and place my cock in your hands. I brace myself on your shoulders and fuck your fingers until you are rubbing against the sheets, desperate for any friction you can get.”

“God, yes.”

“Then I move down to spread your arsecheeks, one still red from where I hit it.”

“Then I would beg.”

“Yes.” Draco placed his hand on Hermione’s neck and squeezed just the slightest bit, blocking her airway for a moment. “Would you trust me like that?”

Hermione nodded. Draco did not move his fingers, just let his hand rest on her neck.

“You beg and then I fuck you into the bloody mattress. You say the most delightful things.” Draco tightened his fingers again for a moment longer. “What would you say to me?”

Hermione took a deep breath, cognizant of Draco’s fingers resting gently on her throat. The thought of him controlling that much of her sent a shiver down her spine. She quickened her pace and said,

“I want you inside me.”

“Yes.”

“I want you to touch me.”

“Good.”

“I want to come. _Please_ , let me come for you.”

“Better.”

The heat was building quickly between Hermione’s hips. She curled her toes and tilted her head so she could see Draco. His brow was damp with sweat, good to know the restraint was taxing him almost as much as it was crushing her. She glanced down at Draco’s dick to see it tenting his trousers.

“Has Weasley ever done anything like that for you?”

Hermione shook her head and pressed frenzied circles against her clit. Draco removed his hand from Hermione’s neck and sat up. He shifted on the bed until he was straddling Hermione, fully clothed. She looked up at him and saw it so clearly. She could see him on top of her, holding her, taking her trust and using it to make her fall into otherworldly pleasure.

“I want this so much.” Hermione breathed heavily. She refused to shut her eyes but wished he hadn’t done this. It was too good. “I want _you_ so much.”

“Good.”

Hermione came with little warning. The warmth overtook her and she used one hand to grasp at the duvet for purchase. She rubbed her clit until it was overstimulated then folded her knees together. She moaned his name, reached up for Draco until her palm landed on his chest. She felt his heart beating fast enough to rival any racing broom.

“The next time Ron Weasley touches you, the next time he fucks you, your eyes will close because you won’t want to watch him. You will want it to be me.”

Hermione looked up as Draco lifted himself over and off her naked body. She turned her head to watch him pull down the duvet then unfasten his trousers. He pulled out his dick and pumped it through an open fist. Draco threw his head back for a moment and closed his eyes.

“Ask me to do it, Hermione.”

She swallowed thickly and confirmed, “I want you to do it.”

He pushed his pants further down and demanded,

“Beg me to do it.”

“Yes, _God,_ yes, come for me. I want you to finish on the sheets so he’ll sleep in it.”

Draco came with a contented sigh. String after string of come landed just below Ron’s pillow. When he was finished, he wiped his cock on the sheets before tucking it back into his pants. He zipped and fastened his trousers then turned to leave.

“Wait!” Hermione begged. “You plan to simply leave me after all this?”

Draco turned around and said, “This does not happen again unless you leave him, Hermione. I was strong enough for this once, I can’t restrain myself a second time.”

She nodded.

“What if I asked nicely?”

Draco considered it.

“Perhaps.”

Hermione sat up on her knees and tugged on the buckle of Draco’s belt. His fantasy was so vivid she could see it in her mind. Hermione _wanted_ it. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and recognized this was a trust she had never known. Something she was compelled to explore.

“What if I begged for it?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope y'all are staying happy and healthy. ❤️


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